Ernest Tickled Again
by MissFeral
Summary: My second story about Ernest P. Worrell and this time, Vern gets into the picture. I hope you like it.


Ernest P. Worrell decided to visit his good buddy Vern. He strolled down the path, doing his happy little pimp walk as he headed to Vern's house. Not a care in the world.

The only problem was sneaky Vern had just left for a vacation - without even telling Ernest. He rented out his house to a married couple, complete strangers.

The wife opened the kitchen window, and then she started washing the dishes. The husband relaxed in the living room, continuously changing stations on the radio.

Ernest arrived at the house, and hid outside the kitchen window. He crouched down so he couldn't be seen. In a moment, he would jump up and poke his head through the window to surprise Vern!

The woman at the sink never expected a thing. She was just minding her own business...

"Hey, Vern! It's your buddy, Ernest!" yelled a strange man with a megawatt grin.

The woman screamed and dropped the dishes on the floor. The plates shattered.

"GO AWAY! PEEPING TOM!" she shouted, throwing the dish towel at him.

Ernest cupped a hand over his mouth, realizing his mistake. He ducked out of sight. The woman continued yelling and throwing things. Ernest scratched his head in confusion. _Am I at the right address? Where could Vern be?_ he wondered.

He peeked into the window again, careful not to be seen. The woman shuffled frantically around the kitchen as she tried to get a grip on herself.

"Harold! Haroooold! I just saw a Peeping Tom in the window!" she yelled.

Ernest dove into some bushes when the husband came in to check. He looked out the window, glanced around a bit, and shook his head.

"There's nobody out there, Margie."

"Harold, I saw a man in the window! He's a Peeping Tom and he's still out there somewhere!"

As the couple argued, Ernest crawled out from the prickly bushes. He heaved a sigh. That was close. As he went on his way, Ernest could still hear the couple shouting from inside the house.

"Margie, you got a screw loose!" said the man.

"I know what I saw!" she insisted. "It was a man, and he leered at me, and he called me Vern. Do I look like a Vern to you, Harold?"

"Calm down. Geez, you're a nervous wreck!"

Marge sobbed. "Of course I am...after seeing that face. He had horrible wrinkled skin, a big horse head, big crazy eyes, a huge nose, and a mouth the size of a row boat. He was the UGLIEST person I ever saw!"

Ernest stopped.

He froze.

His lips trembled.

Tears filled his eyes.

He touched his face gently. "Ugly?"

Ernest ran back home as fast as he could. He grabbed a mirror and looked at his reflection.

"I _am_ ugly," he said, quietly.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

 _Meanwhile..._

Vern drove his car down the road, on his way to the mountains for some much-needed rest. He rolled down the windows and turned up the volume on the radio. He put on sunglasses. Nothing but a gray strip of road ahead of him. Breeze and sunshine in his face.

After a while, Vern got thirsty and reached into his little cooler for a Mello Yello soda. Keeping his left hand on the wheel, he groped around in the cold box but felt nothing except ice cubes and his sandwiches wrapped in plastic. No soda cans.

"Ernest," Vern mumbled, angrily. "He stole my Mello Yello...and when I get my hands on him, he's gonna be a sorry fellow."

Vern growled under his breath, turned the car around and drove back to town.

He raced all the way to Ernest's house and parked outside. He glanced around the premises for any sign of the dimwitted menace. Then he snuck over to a window and peeked inside. He could see Ernest sitting on the couch in his living room, cradling his little dog Rimshot.

 _Hmmm,_ Vern thought. _If the door is unlocked maybe I can sneak inside, get to the refrigerator, take back my Mello Yello, and sneak away again without Ernest seeing me..._

After all, Ernest was friggin' nuts. Vern was always very happy to avoid an encounter with that pesky hick.

So, Vern crept over to the door and opened it slowly...it was unlocked. He stepped silently into the house and tiptoed toward the kitchen. He walked past Ernest, who sat with his back towards him.

Vern slowly pulled open the fridge and scanned the shelves. No Mello Yello...not a single can. Rats, he must have drank it all, Vern seethed. He closed the fridge, tossing a glare in Ernest's direction.

Ernest sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his arm. He held Rimshot in his arms as the dog licked his face soothingly to comfort him.

"I'm awful sorry, Rimshot. I guess your daddy ain't much fun today," Ernest said, choking back a sob as he cuddled the dog closer.  
 _  
Is he...is he crying?_ Vern wondered, now seriously concerned.

Vern walked right over to Ernest, now abandoning all attempts to not be seen. When Ernest looked at him, Vern was shocked to see that Ernest's eyes were red and swollen. He had been crying for a long time.

Vern was horrified. He had never seen Ernest looking so upset before.

"Ernest, what's wrong?"

Ernest wiped his eyes. "Nothin' much, Vern. Don't you worry about it. It's silly."

Vern sat down beside Ernest. He felt pretty nervous at this awkward situation, but wanted to help.

"There's no reason to be concerned about me...I'm just a..." Ernest covered his face and started to cry again.

"Shhhh." Vern moved closer and put his arm around Ernest's shoulder. "Calm down...it's okay. Tell me what's going on."

Ernest took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He cleared his throat and began to explain in a shaky, croaky voice.

"Well, Vern...I wanted to come see ya, so I went to your house and said hello through the window. Only you weren't at home...but there was a lady there. I don't know who she was. I never saw her before."

"Oh," Vern said. "Those are the folks who are renting my house for a month. I was supposed to leave on my vacation today."

"A vacation, Vern? You forgot to tell me. We could have gone together."

"Uh...yeah," Vern mumbled, hoping Ernest wouldn't figure out that he had intentionally tried to slip away without him knowing.

"So anyway, I scared the lady somethin' fierce and she got real angry at me. She called me ugly. The ugliest thing she ever saw! And it's true!"

Ernest's eyes filled with tears. His chin quivered as he struggled to control himself, but it was no use. He couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Ernest, don't cry. You are NOT ugly!"

"But I looked at myself in the mirror, Vern...and I don't like what I saw in there. I never noticed it before but...my face looks just like a pile of garbage that a horse threw up on."

Vern felt like crying when he heard that. He took Ernest in his arms and gave him a hug.

"I don't think you're ugly, Ernest. I'm your friend and I don't think you're ugly at all."

"The lady called me ugly."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it. You just scared her, that's all."

Ernest bit his lip as he thought about that. "But if I scared her with my face, then I must have a scary face...an ugly, scary face. Know what I mean, Vern?"

Vern sighed. "Ernest, what that lady says has nothing to do with you. That lady doesn't know your kind heart. She doesn't know what a loyal friend you are. If she knew you, then she would see how beautiful you really are...on the inside."

Ernest dried his eyes. He thought about what Vern just said. He felt a little calmer now.

"Do you feel any better?" Vern asked, softly.

"A little bit," Ernest said, still a few sniffles left.

Vern smiled slightly and gave him a tissue. "Go on, blow your nose. You'll be alright."

"Gee, thanks for coming to see me, Vern." Ernest said, as he blew into the tissue like a squishy trumpet.

Vern knew the real reason he came over was to steal back his Mello Yello...but the soda wasn't important to him anymore. All that mattered was making Ernest happy again.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?" Vern asked.

Ernest shrugged, while keeping his eyes lowered. Obviously, he was still feeling pretty down.

Vern thought about all the ways he could make Ernest smile. An idea suddenly popped into his head. There was something he had always wondered about his friend Ernest...

Vern cleared his throat and asked the question.

"Ernest, are you...ticklish?"

Ernest blushed a bit. "N-no, I'm not t-ticklish," he stammered, folding his arms over his belly.

"Are you sure?" Vern asked, slyly. "Looks like you're getting slightly defensive there, Ernest."

"Well, okay. I'm a little bit ticklish," Ernest replied, as he blushed harder.

Actually, Ernest was extremely ticklish...especially on the arches of his feet. He had always hoped Vern would never find out, because that would be a death sentence.

Vern chuckled in a way that made Ernest feel slightly uncomfortable. He moved even closer to Ernest, slowly letting his arm slid around Ernest's waist.

Ernest watched Vern's hands. He was visibly nervous now.

"How ticklish did you say you were, Ernest? Mind if I find out?"

Ernest gulped. He considered making a run for it, but he decided to stay still. If he stayed calm and pretended he wasn't ticklish, then maybe Vern would leave him alone.

Ernest shivered when he felt Vern's fingers poking along his side.

"Tickle tickle," Vern teased, as he wormed his finger into Ernest's underarm.

"No...Nononono stop!" Ernest giggled, squirming around on the couch.

Vern flashed a deadly grin. It was time for some fun. He straddled Ernest on the couch, managed to lift one of his arms and pinned it over his head. Then Vern began tickling his armpit without mercy!

"No, no, Vern...NO! Dohohohon't tihihihickle! Hahahahahahaha! C-cut it out! Heheheheahahaha!"

Ernest tried using his free hand to push Vern's hand away but Vern couldn't be stopped. He continued tickling Ernest's exposed armpit, making him squirm and laugh and giggle.

"I never knew you were ticklish!" Vern laughed, giving his friend a moment to catch his breath. "If only I had known about this years ago!"

Ernest curled up in the corner of the couch, as far away from Vern as possible...which wasn't very far since Vern was on the couch too.

"Okay...Okay, Vern," Ernest said, hugging himself for protection. "You win...just no more tickle attacks, okay?"

Vern heaved a sigh. "Oh, I was having fun...but alright. I won't do it anymore if you don't want me to."

With that, Vern stood up and walked away.

Ernest relaxed, letting his guard down as Vern disappeared into another room. He wasn't expecting Vern to stop so quickly.

A moment later, Vern returned to the living room. He resumed his seat on the couch, keeping one hand behind his back. He had a small smile on his face.

"What's up, Vern?" Ernest asked, wondering what his friend had been doing.

"Can see your hands for a second?" Vern asked.

Confused, Ernest held out both his hands.

Vern whipped out a roll of duct tape and taped Ernest's wrists together!

"Ah-hah!" Vern had the most evil grin.

Ernest seemed confused. "What's going on here, Vern?"

"What, did you really think I was finished with you?" Vern hissed.

He forced Ernest to lay down on his back. He sat on Ernest's legs, facing his feet. Ernest knew exactly where this was going and he immediately began struggling to get away.

"What are you so nervous about? Are your feet ticklish?" Vern asked, in a babyish voice.

Ernest blushed and cringed, giggling like an idiot in nervous anticipation.

Vern removed Ernest's right shoe and began tickling his socked foot. He watched Ernest's reaction with glee.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA VERN YOU MEANIE!" Ernest laughed, bucking and wiggling around on the couch.

Vern grinned as he whipped off Ernest's other shoe and tickled both feet at the same time.

Hysterical with laughter, Ernest begged for him to stop. He tried to sit up but couldn't manage to, since his hands were tied and he was laughing too hard.

Then Vern removed Ernest's socks to expose his bare, very sensitive feet.

"Oh no! Please, Vern! Let me keep 'em on!" Ernest pleaded in fear.

"Sorry, Ernest. No socks allowed," Vern taunted, with a smirk.

With Ernest's bare feet at his mercy, Vern wondered what he should do first.

He decided to start with the toes. With a devilish grin, he grabbed the toes of Ernest's left foot and tickled underneath and between them.

Ernest squealed like a little girl and laughed uncontrollably.

"HEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! HEY NO FAIR! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He threw his head back as he laughed, bucking wildly under Vern's weight.

Vern glanced over his shoulder and saw his buddy red-faced and crying. Vern smiled, since those were tears of laughter instead of sadness.

"You've actually had this coming for years...," Vern muttered.

"I CAN'T STAND IT!" Ernest cried through his laughter.

Vern just smiled and continued tickling his toes, digging his fingers between them. Once in a while, he pulled back his toes and gave the undersides a torturous scratching.

"VEEEEEHEHEHEHEHERN STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!" Tears slipped down his rough cheeks. He could hardly breathe.

Just when Ernest thought it couldn't get any worse, Vern began tickling his soles and paid special attention to his arches.

Ernest screamed with laughter, bucking so hard that the entire couch bounced around on the floor. Vern had to wrap his legs around Ernest's ankles to keep a grip on them.

"AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEHEHEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEEEASE STOP TICKLING MY FEEHEHEHEHEHEHEET!" His face turned deep red, endless tears cascading down his cheeks. He even called out for his dog Rimshot to save him...little chance of that happening.

The small dog just sat on the floor, wagging his tail in glee. He took pleasure in seeing Ernest so joyful, laughing like a hyena...

"Had enough, Worrell?" Vern asked, after ten long minutes of tickle torture.

Ernest gasped for air, tears of mirth still leaking from his eyes. Sweat soaked his clothes, making the fabric cling to his body.

"I hope you didn't drink too many of my sodas," Vern stated. "I wouldn't want you to wet your pants." He chuckled in a slightly sadistic way.

Ernest's eyes widened in fear when he saw Vern grab a pencil...

Rascally Vern rubbed the pointy tip of the pencil all over Ernest's soles, scribbling stuff on the bottoms of his feet.

"NOT THAT! PLEASE! HAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOOOO! IT TICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!" Ernest wailed, his face returning to the rich red color. His cap flew off during his thrashing, exposing a mop of sweaty brown hair.

Vern drew shapes and squiggly lines on Ernest's soles, tickling the poor guy to the point where he truly had difficulty breathing. He then stopped, not wanting Ernest to faint.

"P-please, Vern...no more tickling," Ernest begged, the second he had enough breath to speak.

Vern picked up Ernest's cap and gave it back to him. Then he helped him into a sitting position and peeled the duct tape off his wrists.

"I'm sorry, Ernest," he apologized, feeling a bit guilty. "I just wanted to cheer you up."

Though exhausted, Ernest had to admit that he did feel a whole lot better.

"Awww, heck, you really did cheer me up, Vern. Thanks for tickling me and making me laugh." Ernest smiled, but blushed when he said that.

Vern grinned widely. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know about that. I can't stand having my feet tickled...I'm awfully ticklish. It's torture but I always feel better afterwards. Know what I mean, Vern?"

"Yes, Ernest, I do know what you mean," Vern chuckled. "Oh...and now I know exactly how to handle you next time you pester me." He grinned wickedly.

Then Ernest noticed the mirror on the floor right where he had left it, lying glass-down. He frowned, but marched over to the mirror and picked it up. He took a quick glance at his reflection.

Vern watched him curiously.

Ernest adjusted his cap and looked into the mirror again. His lips curved into a banana-wide smile.

"Ya know something, Vern? I think I need to have more self-confidence. Beauty is only skin-deep. From now on, I'm gonna walk with my head held high and keep my chin way up there...I should learn to not let mean words hurt me. Loving yourself is an awful important thing, Vern. I sure did learn a really neat lesson today."

Vern nodded, but rolled his eyes as Ernest just continued mugging at himself in the mirror. He got up from his seat and walked out of the house, leaving Ernest alone to gaze at himself.

"I'm gonna keep a stiff upper lip, Vern. My face may not be pretty but it's unique. I got a real unique-looking face, Vern. Thanks a bunch for making me happy again. You helped me get back my self-worth and that's a real important thing to have. Why, everybody should feel good about themselves. Know what I mean, Vern? Vern? Uh...Vern?"

Ernest turned around but Vern was nowhere in sight. The sneaky guy had scampered off again. Ernest went to the window and watched as Vern's car backed out of the driveway.

Ernest lifted Rimshot into his arms and they watched Vern's car until it disappeared around the corner.

"There goes a great guy, Rimshot."

Rimshot barked in agreement, covering his owner's face with wet licks.

Ernest chuckled, snuggling with the playful dog as he kept on looking out the window.

"Hmmm," he said to himself. "I wonder if Vern is ticklish."

The End


End file.
